


hold me (wrap me up)

by JenniferSawyer



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Anxiety, Blood, College!AU, Depression, Detailed Description of Suicide Attempt, Gen, Heavy Angst, Panic Attacks, Pure angst tbh, Self-Harm, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, cursing, depending on how you read it, detailed description of self-harm, human!AU, i guess, logan roman and virgil are mentioned but you don't actually see them, maybe even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 09:36:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14788008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferSawyer/pseuds/JenniferSawyer
Summary: It had been two weeks since classes ended. Summer had come all at once, sudden and warm and hazy, and now it was just a blurry mess of nothing. No classes. No homework. No meetings or extra curriculars oranythingto fill his days. Maybe that was why Patton was feeling this way again so soon.Empty.---One shot Human College!AU in which Patton struggles with severe recurrent depression. Pure vent fic. Please heed the warnings and stay safe.





	hold me (wrap me up)

**Author's Note:**

> this is a pure vent fic tbh (I'm okay, please don't worry about me) and y'all PLEASE heed the warnings in the tags and take care of yourselves <3 also let me know if I should add more warnings/tags please and thank

It had been two weeks since classes ended. Summer had come all at once, sudden and warm and hazy, and now it was just a blurry mess of nothing. No classes. No homework. No meetings or extra curriculars or _anything_ to fill his days. Maybe that was why Patton was feeling this way again so soon. 

Empty. 

It had been like this for… he couldn’t remember how long. He’d be fine for a while, sometimes months at a time, even, but sooner or later it came back. The emptiness. It would seep into his bones, make a home in his chest and settle heavily in his ribs, weighing him down. He’d have days when he was left unable to focus, unable to breathe properly. Unable to even get out of bed sometimes. 

Last Friday had been one of those days. And every day since. 

Patton sighed, reaching for his phone and squinting at the bright screen. _2:48 p.m._ He’d been awake since early this morning, despite how late he’d gone to bed, but he just hadn’t been able to fall back asleep. Patton put his phone back on the nightstand, ignoring the notifications displayed on the lock screen, and continued to stare at nothing in particular. 

He should really get up. Eat something. Or shower. Or answer those texts, or do some laundry, or wash the dishes. Something. He sighed again and sat up, running a hand over his face before grabbing his glasses and putting them on. He thought about all of the things he could be doing, all of the things he _should_ be doing, but he was just so exhausted. And it wasn’t like he had a roommate to keep up appearances for. 

Well. He could at least brush his teeth.If nothing else, he could at least do that. 

Patton slowly pushed himself up and headed for the bathroom. He grabbed the toothpaste, struggling with the cap. It really didn’t make sense for him to be shaking this much—he’d just eaten something yesterday. _That… had been yesterday, right?_

He couldn’t remember. 

The days had just been blurring together, and he was surprised to realize that he honestly didn’t even know what day of the week it was. He couldn’t find it in him to really care. 

Patton glanced up at himself in the mirror as he brushed, noting the dark bags under his eyes and the way his greasy hair hung limply against his forehead. He looked awful. He _felt_ awful. He felt… heavy. Heavy and tired and _gross_. ~~Disgusting.~~ Patton tore his eyes away, avoiding the mirror until he left the bathroom. 

He crawled back into bed and hugged a pillow to his chest. He was so, so tired. No matter how much he slept, no matter what he did, always so tired. Patton closed his eyes, grabbing a second pillow and pulling it over his head to block the sunlight streaming in through the curtains. 

It was stupid. ~~Stupid.~~ It was stupid to act like this, stupid to feel like this. And it was stupid that something as simple as brushing his teeth could leave him feeling so much more exhausted than he already was. It was stupid, and _he_ was stupid, and he was just. Tired. 

Patton’s phone started buzzing and he peeked out from underneath the pillow to stare at the screen. Logan was calling. Again. 

Patton closed his eyes and hugged the pillow to his chest tighter, the phone still buzzing on the nightstand. Guilt settled in his stomach, heavy and aching. ~~Bad friend.~~ He hated ignoring his friends, hated the idea that they might be disappointed or hurt because he wasn’t answering. But he just didn’t have it in him to pretend today. 

The buzzing finally stopped, and Patton opened his eyes. A few moments passed, and then there was a new text lighting up the screen. He reached out an unsteady hand, unlocking his phone and scanning through all of the messages he’d yet to read. Virgil had sent him several. He seemed really worried, and Patton felt his guilt sharpen. He knew how anxious Virgil could get. Ignoring his messages probably wasn’t helping. ~~Selfish.~~ Roman had sent him a couple of messages, and called a few times, too. Patton couldn’t make himself listen to the voicemails. He went to Logan’s messages last, lingering on the most recent one. 

**Patton, it has been several days since we’ve heard from you. Why aren’t you answering your phone? Call me back.**

Another message from Logan popped up at the bottom of the screen. 

**Please.**

Patton closed his eyes and locked the screen again, tossing the phone to the side. He hugged the pillow tighter and took slow, deep breaths. _Why was he still shaking?_

They deserved better. He was a bad friend. Ignoring them, making them worry over him. Why couldn’t he just be normal? Why was he _like this_? But, even then, when he was feeling okay that wasn’t much better, was it? He was just—god, he was probably so _exhausting_ to be around. He was too much, alwaysjust _too much_ , never knowing when to shut up, never knowing when to leave people alone. Always so _annoying, why was he so annoying? Everyone would be so much happier without_ — 

Spiraling. Again. Stop, stop, _stop_. He didn’t need to go back to that place. Why wouldn’t he just call Logan back? He could call Logan—or Virgil, or Roman—and maybe… maybe what? 

What could they do? Nothing, really. They couldn’t help him. There was no fixing this, no fixing _him_. It would just make them feel bad, knowing what a pathetic mess he was, and then he would just feel worse, and—and what was the point in that? They probably weren’t all that bothered by his lack of response, anyway. _~~Annoying~~ _ . They were probably only checking on him to be nice. God, he wanted to— 

_No_ . 

He’d been so good. He’d been so good for so long, gone so many months without a slip up. He couldn’t throw all that progress down the drain. He couldn’t… but what was the point of stopping himself? He deserved it. He deserved it, he deserved it, he _deserved it_ — 

Oh god. 

Patton could feel it growing. It was something like fear, something like despair, and it was swallowing him whole. Crushing his lungs and clawing its way up his throat and leaving him breathless. He tried to count his breaths. Tried looking around for something to ground him, something, _anything_ , but it wasn’t working. None of it was _working_ and he couldn’t stop, couldn’t stop thinking, and—did it really matter? Did it really matter if he gave in? Did it matter if nobody knew, if nobody found out? 

There was a beat of silence, and then Patton got up and crossed over to his closet on unsteady legs. He reached up, feeling around on top of the shelf before pulling down a thin razor. _He shouldn’t do this_. He held up his left arm and took a shuddering breath, trembling so badly that the blade shook in his hand. 

It was too much. Everything was just too much. He was bursting, coming apart from the inside out, and _he shouldn’t do this._

How can he feel so much and be so empty at the same time? 

_~~Annoying~~ . It didn’t really matter, right? _ No, come on, he shouldn’t do this. _But—but why not? Why shouldn’t he? ~~Burden.~~ _ There are reasons not to. There are reasons. It’s not healthy, his friends wouldn’t like it, it would leave scars and he’d have to wear his cardigan all the time, and it’s summer, and someone might notice. He shouldn’t do this.What would they think if _—but there’s no reason they should ever find out, he’s always been very careful, nobody has ever found out before, so—_ no, he should just put it back now before he ruins months of progress. _~~Pathetic.~~ _ No, he—he, he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t, _he shouldn’t—_

He did. 

It was a quick motion, almost desperate, and Patton let out a choked gasp. It had been so long, he’d almost forgotten how much it hurt. _~~He deserved it~~ _ ~~.~~ Patton blinked away the wetness in his eyes and waited a few moments before swiping the razor across his arm again. Again. And again, and a few more, and then a few more, and then he’d lost count, and then all of a sudden Patton froze, staring with wide eyes as if seeing the damage for the first time. 

Too much. He’d done too much. And that last one was too deep, so much deeper than he’d ever meant to cut. And _the blood_. So much more than he’d ever seen at one time. It was enough to run down his arm, enough to drip onto the floor, and oh _god_. 

_Red. Red. So much red, red, red_ — 

A few seconds passed, Patton frozen in place, and then he dropped the razor. His eyes followed it to the floor, and he was sure it had clattered but he didn’t hear it, didn’t hear anything but the roaring, and his lungs, his lungs were stuttering, and he couldn’t breathe. _Bleeding. Bleeding, too red, too bright, too much—it was still bleeding._ He grabbed some underwear and a pair of shorts before walking to the bathroom. _It was too much. Dripping, dripping, stop._ _Don’t—Don’t panic. Breathe._ Patton put the clothes on the counter and turned on the shower. 

He’d screwed up. Just like he always did. _God, he was such a worthless piece of shit_. Patton undressed frantically, choking back a sob when he caught sight of his reflection. _Disgusting_. He took his glasses off, facing away from the mirror and trying not to get blood on his shirt as he pulled it over his head. He failed. 

~~Failure.~~

Once he finished undressing he stepped into the shower, hissing at the near-scalding temperature of the water. He stood there for a moment and watched the blood run down his arm, down the drain. _Lightheaded, dizzy. He was shaking, hyperventilating—focus. Calm down._ Closing his eyes, Patton tangled his hands in his hair, digging his nails into his scalp as he leaned against the wall of the shower. His arm throbbed, stinging harshly under the stream of hot water. 

_~~He deserved it.~~ _

\--- 

Patton sat quietly in his car, staring at his bandaged arm. The bleeding had stopped before too long. He’d been able to patch himself up, though it had been slow-going with only one hand. The bandages he’d used had been the last of his supplies in the first aid kit. He’d gone out to get more, his first time out of the house in days. 

More first aid supplies weren’t the only thing he’d bought. 

He had done the research. Looked everything up on his phone in less than ten minutes. Done it while standing in the medicine aisle, occasionally glancing up numbly from the screen to watch the people passing by. People shopping, picking out groceries, walking around and smiling and talking and _living_ around him while he researched exactly how many pills he would have to take for it to be a lethal dose. 

And now he was here. And the bottle of pills felt so heavy in his lap. 

He looked away from his arm and picked up the bottle, vision blurring as he stared. The minutes ticked by, and he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He didn’t check it. _~~Burden.~~ _

The sun had just barely set, everything still and quiet. The world seemed almost muted, almost frozen around him. As if the trees were holding their breath, as if the clouds were pausing in the sky to watch, as if the air itself was waiting, waiting. Waiting to see what he was going to do. 

Patton took a breath. 

He didn’t know what he wanted. But he wasn’t doing this right now. He set the bottle in the passenger seat and climbed out of the car, carrying his other purchases inside and crawling into bed. His arm throbbed, but before long he stopped noticing. 

\--- 

More days passed. The bottle of pills sat untouched in his car. More and more texts from his friends went unanswered. They kept texting, kept calling. He turned his phone on silent. 

He was so tired. Tired and empty and—it was nothing. 

He was nothing. 

\--- 

\--- 

\--- 

Patton went out to his car, just sitting and looking at nothing for a while. The heat was suffocating, pressing in on him from all sides like a heavy blanket, and before long he was feeling dangerously lightheaded. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. _~~He didn’t deserve to eat, didn’t deserve to live.~~ _ He opened the water bottle he’d brought with him and took a small sip. Lukewarm. It had been cold when he first came out here. 

Did he want this? 

Patton set the water down and picked up the bottle of pills. He held it up, staring. Staring. 

He didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t know— 

Hot tears streaked down his face as he squeezed his eyes shut, and _god, who was he kidding? There was just no goddamn hope, was there? It was never going to get better, he was never going to feel anything but this emptiness, anything but this heavy, awful, nothingness that was consuming him, and he didn’t know what he wanted but he knew he didn’t want whatever this feeling was. Whatever this life was._

In a sudden flurry of motion Patton twisted the cap off the bottle and poured some pills into his hand. _Stop shaking. Focus._ He tipped them into his mouth, gulping them down with his water. He hesitated for only a second and then he was taking more, more, choking them down between sobs, and _god, no. He lost count. He lost count, what if he didn’t take enough? ~~Don’t screw this up. Don’t screw this up like everything else.~~ _ Patton frantically poured more, a few of them falling to the floorboards, and he swallowed them painfully. He tried to push down a wave of nausea, pouring more pills into his hand before realizing he was out of water. 

He felt sick, his heart in his throat. It almost didn’t feel real. Like a nightmare. Or a dream. His chest was tight, heart fluttering, and everything felt distant, muted, but the silence was deafening and _stop, stop, stop crying._

\- 

In his room, Patton’s phone lit up. 

**From: <3 Lo-Lo <3**

**Enough is enough, Patton. We’re coming over. Be there in 5.**

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is very much appreciated. Positive, negative, whatever. This is un-beta'd, as usual, so if you see any typos please let me know!
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who reads, leaves kudos, and/or leaves comments! I love every single bit of feedback that you guys give me, thank you so much.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I left the ending open on purpose. 
> 
> You want this to be a complete angst fest? They find him, but they find him too late. He's gone, and screaming his name and shaking his lifeless body won't bring him back now. Nothing will ever be the same. 
> 
> You want everything to be okay? WELL TOO BAD--just kidding, they all get there in time and get him to a hospital and the doctors save him. Still, though. Nothing will ever be the same.


End file.
